His only treasure
by AmadErik
Summary: 11-12 year old adolescant Erik loses the only beautiful thing in him. Leroux - based prequel oneshot.


Nighttime fell on the small picturesque village near the French border in Germany. It was a very peaceful April evening, birds were singing on the branches of the tree that stood next to the kitchen window of that small house in the edge of the village. Other than that tree, one could only see the fields meeting the horizon, and the edge of a pine forest from that window. It was a peaceful and relaxing sight while cooking or doing the dishes.

Frau Anna Schulz, the lady of the house was preparing dinner while waiting for her husband and the boy to arrive back from the workshop in the end of a day spent with hard work. It was a huge amount of food to make, she was waiting for a hardworking smith and a maybe even twice as hardworking adolescent boy that helped out in the workshop. That boy was really a treasure, he deserved every bite he took. He was polite, laborious, strong and a fast learner. Gregor told many times that he will turn out to be an excellent smith with time, and even more, he will be able to do anything he wanted to. He was very talented in wood crafting, he was able to form anything he wanted to.

Despite his young age, he acted like an adult most of the time.

He couldn't be more than twelve years old at that time, only with them for a year.

He was a mysterious little thing, always wearing a mask made out of some kind of black cloth, and never let anyone touch it. It was hard to understand and accept his decision, but in the end both her husband and her gave up on asking him about it, or remove it, as the boy was just as stubborn about the issue as at the first time ever that it was discussed. He begged them not to touch the mask, he cried, he was acting as his life depended on that mask staying on his face- they had no heart to bother him about it any longer.

They were being late. They maybe had some extra work to do? It happened sometimes. Frau Schulz wasn't too worried for a time- they will be home eventually. It sometimes happened that they agreed to do some more work, money was needed always, and Gregor really couldn't say no, despite his way of acting usually, he was a gentle and kind man with a loving heart. Lot of hard working, poverty and a family tragedy made his heart tougher during the past few years. He became much less talkative and much more distant to everyone after Erik died. Erik Schulz, their nine year- old son passed away two years ago, after an illness he wasn't able to fight. Those times wore both of them out, and Gregor wasn't the same after the funeral. He seemed to hate every children who survived Erik even by a single day. The newcomer boy was treated coldly by Gregor as well at first, but after the boy showed him what a good boy he was and how could he work, the man finally showed some kindness towards him. Surprisingly, the poor boy didn't mind coldness. It seemed like it was something he was used to. It was rather caretaking, kindness and compassion he got surprised about, and this made the woman's heart break with sadness. What kind of a life that poor thing could have known before? He did not even have a name yet.

Two hours later than usual, when she was lost in her musings about the boy, they really arrived back, she was relieved to hear the carriage driving into the yard. With a smile, she started heating dinner again.

\- Good evening, Anna! – Her husband stepped into the kitchen. – Well, I can feel the nice smell of soup… I am very hungry, my dear wife! – He hung his coat on the coat hanger, and sniffed into the air several times.

\- Wash your hands, Gregor. – The woman answered with a tired smile. – How many times I have to warn you?

\- Oh, this is why that boy is always washing his hands, because you, women raise them like this. He is turning too much of a nervous wreck about something being pure and clean.

\- Where is he? – She asked with wondering tone. – Did he stay in the workshop?

\- No. He came home, but he isn't hungry. I don't know, he has some problem, I think. He went to bed.

\- Why don't you talk to him about it? – Anna asked with surprise and compassion mixed in her voice.

\- He doesn't talk. I won't ask him. If he wants to speak, he will. If he wants to eat, he will. Stop babying that boy. He is turning a man, not a whiny little chick. Leave him alone.

\- Oh you men… you think you always have to hide your emotions. – She shook her head, while she put a bowl of soup and a slice of bread in front of her husband.

The boy did not show up while the whole dinner. Anna, yet she did not show it to her husband, was worried about the poor thing. Gregor said he might be just tired. One of the wheels of the carriage broke on the way home, and they had to repair it, that is why they were being late. Maybe hard working all day, and helping him with the carriage just wore him out.

\- I wish him a good night, though. – She softly stated after she finished doing the dishes.

\- You do what you want. – Gregor shrugged, and walked towards the bedroom. – I go to bed, and sleep. Good night, Anna.

\- Good night, Gregor. – She nodded and walked outside.

The boy slept outside at the bay's hayloft with the horses, he loved them, and took care of them without being asked even once. He acted as they were his horses, and she often caught him talk nicely to them. He refused to sleep in the house, yet they could have offered a wooden bench covered with sheets in the kitchen for him to sleep at, but he respectfully declined the offer. He told it was better for him in the bay.

As she stepped in, she could instantly sense something was wrong. She could hear some painful sobs of despair from the hayloft. That poor boy must be in pain. She climbed up the ladder and tucked her head up to see what was going on. The boy was kneeling in the corner, crying so hard that her heart broke right by the mere sight of him.

\- My boy… - She called out softly. – What is wrong?

He jumped up in fright, for some seconds he just stood there, frozen with fear and being distracted, but he wasn't able to fight back his tears.

\- Please… leave me… - He suddenly spoke, but his voice wasn't the usual.

\- Oh son… what is wrong? Please tell me. I am sure I can help you whatever the problem might be.

Silence came. He just sat back down, not facing her. She approached him from the behind, and placed her hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch, but he seemed to be so desperate and clueless she could not simply leave him there with his trouble.

\- Trust me, my dear… my son… tell me what's wrong…? Erik, my son, what's wrong?

The boy slowly lifted his head up. That was something he had never heard before. He was called by a NAME. A name that meant a lot to this beautiful and kind woman, who took good care of him. He knew about their son was named Erik. She just called him… ERIK. Up until this time, he was being called "boy" by his mother, or various names regarding his appearance, and the Schulz couple called him either "boy" or "son" if he was really good. But never before had someone called him by a human name.

He closed his eyes for some seconds. Such kindness should be repaid. He can trust her. Maybe she could even… help…?

\- Lady…

\- Call me mother… will you? Please Erik, call me mother. Do you mind being called Erik?

\- No. – He replied softly. – Not at all.

\- Thank you. I would like to call you by a name.

\- Thank you. – He whispered.

\- And what is wrong?... – She inquired.

\- I have lost… something. – He admitted.

\- What did you lose, my dear?

\- My only treasure. – His voice was rasp, even though he wasn't crying any more.

\- Your only treasure? Was it a jewel? Or money?

\- No… it was something… more important…. – He went on. – It was my voice.

Silence fell on both of them. Yes, the boy had a crystal clear toned voice, it sounded as beautifully enchanting as the clearest of music. He would often sing or hum something while working around the house, and yet the woman was musically uneducated, she could still recognize the boy was great at singing, and had a sweet singing and speaking voice. Now this clear tone seemed to be replaced by some unstable jumping between higher and lower pitches and kind of huskiness.

The realization suddenly hit her.

\- How old are you, Erik?

\- I am not sure. – He responded hesitantly. – Why do you ask that?

\- You must be in your teens. – She looked at the masked face with love, and wanted to stroke the boy's dark locks, but he suddenly misunderstood her intentions, and flinched. He thought that she wanted to remove the mask. That sudden act of distrust pained her. What a tortured little thing he is! So fragile… so innocent… - Has anyone ever told you about turning to be a man, Erik?

\- No. – He shook his head.

\- You see, you are old enough, so the process starts.

\- What process? – He asked with worry.

\- You are growing up to be a strong man like my husband. Do you think, Herr Schulz always had that kind of voice?

\- Hm… - Erik scratched his head in a sudden realization. – I honestly never considered this question. – He admitted with his new unclassifiable kind of voice.

\- He had a childish voice just like you. It is just your voice is changing. You did not lose it.

\- I liked the old one more. – He baulked.

\- This is not yet your new voice. – The kind woman smiled at him. – It is just a temporary one you have until you get your new voice.

\- Will my new voice be clear? – He inquired, seeking for safety. – Will it be a treasure like the old one? Will it be… nice?

\- I am sure you will like your new voice. It will be some kind of other than the old one, but I am sure it will be nice.

\- Am I turning to be a baritone? – He seemed to be interested in the question.

\- I honestly don't know, Erik. I know nothing about music and voice types.

\- You are an alto. – He pointed out. – And Herr Schulz is a baritone. I have heard him singing some drinking songs sometimes. But why you never sing?

\- Oh Erik, I can't sing. I never felt the need to do it.

\- It sounds strange. – He shrugged. – I always feel the need of it. I just hope this temporary voice won't last for a too long time. It drives me crazy.

\- Just sleep, Erik. Everything is turning to be all right. – She nodded and left. It was already late and she knew the boy had to get up early to go to work with Gregor in the morning.

\- Good night… mother. – She heard that new and unsteady voice calling her by the sweetest name on Earth.

Erik couldn't see her wiping some tears out of the corner of her eyes.

Some months had to pass until Erik finally received another treasure from God and Nature, but the result really worth the wait. Erik's new voice was such a soothing and caressing bass- baritone organ, that he did not mind the one he had lost in order to receive this godly gift in his throat. Again he had a beautiful thing about him - his only treasure.


End file.
